30 Things They Should Have Done But Didn't
by musubi.kei
Summary: Because Zechs and Noin are Aces at everything except Romance and Each Other... 30 themes, 30 shots, any length, any pairing, of 30 times or places they could've should've might've kissed, but didn't. ZxN-centric. **Drop me a note or a comment to suggest your own prompt!**
1. 001 Dress

**30 Things They Should Have Done But Didn't**

30 UNkisses challenge, like 30 Kisses but not: 30 themes, 30 shots, any length, any pairing, of 30 times or places they could've should've might've kissed, but didn't. ZxN-centric. Drop me a note or a comment to suggest your own prompt!

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_Gundam Wing © SOTSU AGENCY - SUNRISE - ANB_  
_This is a work of derivative Fanfiction. No claims are made towards the ownership of intellectual rights pertaining to the metaseries.**  
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**28 Dec, 196 (#001 Dress)**

Lucrezia Noin has never learnt to be a woman. Her parents were stalwart Businessmen who viewed all their children as mere commodities, and she herself has never really known different. She was recruited into the illustrious Lake Victoria Academy by the Romefeller Foundation at age six and groomed as a soldier ant until graduating near the top of her class at age twelve, following six years of general education with an additional focus on mech piloting, all very typical of children in her social caste.

The next three years were spent in Basic and Combat Training. She would have completed it in two, had it been possible, but OZ had a strict "no skipping" rule when it came to their Specials-qualifying recruits, a policy which fourteen year-old Noin just couldn't get. By the time she was eighteen and training cadets of her own, that ruling made a whole lot more sense. Kids are temperamental morons between the ages of fourteen to sixteen. The soul-crushing routine of OZ's militant Training kept them well-occupied and well-out-of-trouble.

But, she was digressing. Where was she? Oh yes; Lucrezia Noin has never learnt to be a woman.

Which isn't to say she was a virgin at age twenty and a half, God no! That ship had sailed some years ago in the competent hands of a well-recommended Host Club gigolo. He was a great guy. Funny, patient, easy to be with. They still go for drinks sometimes, when she's in his area. What it means to say is, she has never, to the best of her knowledge, ever, bothered to pretty herself up.

She tried not to scowl now as Relena Darlian ploughed determinedly through a pile of voluminous dresses dumped unceremoniously on her bedroom floor, looking for something that would fit. A good part of the problem was how much broader in the shoulders and flater down the bodice Noin was compared to the little Vice Foreign Minister of the Earth Sphere United Nation.

"What's wrong with that one?" She asked with a sigh as Relena held it up against her for the third time before tossing into one of several other indistinguishable piles of dresses.

"Too bluey, I don't like how it looks against your eyes."

"And that one?"

"Too princessy, wouldn't work with your hips." Relena was a whole other world of bossy when it comes to things like these, she is finding out.

Noin rolled her eyes, though her hands slipped subconsciously to check the shape of her hips. They were firm and narrow, with just a little extra padding from the soft living she has endured recently accompanying Lady Une around on her political schmoozing circuit. The joints were loose and supple, the glutes were lean and strong. Good hips for dragging through the mud under enemy lines or diving across a field of flying bullets.

"Why can't I just wear this?" She waved dismissively along the length of her body, indicating what she was already wearing.

Relena glared. "You can't go to dinner at DuBois in jeans and a men's shirt!"

Darn, she was hoping Relena wouldn't notice the latter. It was a very nice shirt, other than the buttons being on the wrong side for her gender. Grey silk, loosely draped from the shoulders, fitted snug around the midriff and finishing in three-quarter length opera sleeves.

"These are nice jeans," she protested half-heartedly, "there's crystals and embroidery on the pockets and everything,"

"I'm sure my brother would prefer to see you in a dress," Relena reasoned, using the sweet Vice Foreign Minister Darlian tone she reserved for difficult old men.

"Come on, Lucrezia, don't pretend you're not enjoying this a little," Sally Po entered the room armed with a pair of hot ion irons and some kind of large, nasty-looking spiked thing that looked more like a medieval weapon than an ordinary women's hairbrush.

"I don't," the intended victim complained. "It's just dinner; it's just Zechs. I don't understand what all this fuss is about."

"Hah," Sally scoffed with a slightly off-colour smirk, "I've seen that Zechs. Men like him don't do 'just dinner'. You'll want to look your best."

"Tch. If Zechs wanted me in a dress, he would have sent one."

Three hours and only ten minutes late later, Zechs stood outside the prestigious DuBois restaurant and surveyed his sister and Sally Po's handiwork.

They'd done things to Noin's hair — unspeakable things that made it fall and crest in permanent windswept waves against her cheeks and neck. Her bare shoulders rose out of a daisy yellow silk-and-chiffon dress held up by two thin ribbons sewn to a v-shaped collar of the same material embellished with crystals set in a sunburst design. They'd painted her eyelids delicate hues of gold and purple and lacquered her lips in pink gloss until it resembled a frozen virgin rose.

The first thing she said to Zechs was "She's _your_ sister. This should have been _you_."

She looked dead and miserable inside. He smiled, only partly sympathetic.

"I should have sent a dress."

-x-


	2. 002 Hero

**30 Things They Should Have Done But Didn't**

This series is completely canonical but independent of my efforts with _Ophiuchus Historia._ Yes, I'm meandering on a new tangent again, because working on the politics of "Secret Life" and the angst of "Silver Wing" at the same time is just a little bit depressing and neither have afforded as many opportunities for fluff as I'd originally expected, hm.

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_Gundam Wing © SOTSU AGENCY - SUNRISE - ANB_  
_This is a work of derivative Fanfiction. No claims are made towards the ownership of intellectual rights pertaining to the metaseries._

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**10 April, 195 (#002 Hero)**

Zechs Marquise hated calling on his Alma Mater, it makes him feel like a snot-nosed kid running home to mommy after getting his ass kicked by bigger kids on the playground, but circumstances hadn't given him much choice. He needed a safe place to service the ancient Tallgeese suit and Lake Victoria was his most reliable bet. There are no Alliance troops stationed there, for a start. He was getting rather tired of the passive aggressive attitude he and the rest of the OZ troops have been suffering from the regular Alliance Army lately.

On the other hand, _she_ will be there and he wasn't really looking forward to that either, considering the circumstances.

Noin and he had very different ideas of what heroes are. He, like every boy in the universe, knew heroism to be the moment one runs ahead in front of his men and cries "CHARRGE!" and has spent most of his life working towards being that guy. She, on the other hand, insists that the real heroes are those who stand quietly behind that one guy so that idiots like that can go charging in without a care. Second Specials Lieutenant Walker had just shown him her point. The real hero of the day wasn't Zechs for successfully escaping from Corsica Base with the suit, it was Walker, who'd stayed behind to cover his back.

"Lieutenant Zechs, Victoria Base is on the line."

Her face on the screen made his stomach sink. With his streak of luck, she _would_ be the one to take his call.

She looked well. Cool and composed, as expected of a top OZ Instructor. He must look a mess, he fretted for a split second before remembering that she can't actually see his face under his mask, no matter how convincingly she is able to pretend to.

"It's been a while, Zechs," she said and leaned in close on the monitor to peer into his eyes. There was a warm, twinkling smile in her eyes that cut him to the quick. Suddenly he, who had not been able to think of anything to talk or write or communicate to her in any way, shape or form about for... a year and twenty-two days, give or take? had a million things to tell her all at once and it all tumbled together and mushed up everywhere to become one big, weird, lumpy, hot, ball over his heart that he couldn't begin to expel or explain. He replied, but it was mostly terse gibberish.

"_I hear you're good at training pilots for outer space"_ Well, of course she is, dumbass, that's her job! _"But you hate wars, how did you get to be such a great Instructor?"_ Idiot, idiot, idiot! His cheeks burned under the mask, making it itch. His men must think him a right boob, after listening in. Crap! Ahh, forget it! He heaved a sigh of relief when the call was over and secretly thanked the pursuing Gundam for giving him something else to focus on besides all the things he could have said better and all the things he should have, but didn't say:

"Thank you", "I'm sorry", "You were right", and...

**-x.x-**


	3. 003 View

**30 Things They Should Have Done But Didn't**

English does not have a good enough noun to encompass the beauty and mystique of _ushirosugata_ (the view of someone's back). Why is that?

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_Gundam Wing © SOTSU AGENCY - SUNRISE - ANB_  
_This is a work of derivative Fanfiction. No claims are made towards the ownership of intellectual rights pertaining to the metaseries._

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**14 Feb, 196 (#003 View)**

When Lady Une decided to recruit Lucrezia Noin to her Preventers initiative, it was because of the young woman's involvement in the events culminating into the Eve War and her many connections within the ranks of OZ's surviving forces. It was also, admittedly, in view of the rapport she had built with four out of the five boys behind the powerful Gundam machines. Lucrezia Noin had a way with people Lady Une could not imitate, which made her an invaluable asset on a political platform. So even though she could not stand the ex-OZ officer, Une was determined to make Noin one of hers.

She almost didn't bother to read the background report, not that there was anything in it that would have changed her decision, but there was something there, entirely trivial and more personal than Une was comfortable in confronting, that ate away at her until it slipped out one afternoon in a rare personal conversation.

They'd started talking about Treize Khushrenada and, of course, his favourite Ace, Zechs Marquise— Milliard Peacecraft.

"Why do you never visit Milliard's grave?"

"There is no need; he's still out there somewhere, indubitably."

"Why were you always one place behind him?"

There had always been something between Lucrezia Noin and Zechs... Milliard. Faint and ethereal, ineffable. Everyone knew he had graduated Lake Victoria Academy at the top of his class with her in second place, but the trend had persisted throughout officer training and for as long as they were in the same competitive ladder. Treize had alluded to it more than once, always with some mix of mockery and envy Lady Une has never understood. Was there something hidden between them unbeknownst to the world, like a secret relationship, Master-and-Servant, perhaps? That could explain everything. The Peacecrafts were royalty, it was not completely beyond the realm of possibility.

Noin paused with a look of surprise. "I was? That was a long time ago, wasn't it?" An absolutely typical response of anyone when suddenly asked about something they hadn't thought to consider in nearly a decade.

"It must be a coincidence, then," Une shrugged, ready to be finally rid of the mystery and doubly relieved it was as mundane as that. "Excuse me, I read too much into it."

"Well... not entirely," Noin flashed an embarrassed smile. No-one has ever asked her for this story before. It was a long time ago and they were so young then, just children, being unwittingly moulded into soldiers. "It was only during the physicals, I didn't realise it would be such a deciding factor in my performance reviews until it was too late."

"What do you mean?"

"I liked having him run ahead of me," she blushed, slipping into memories of hot African suns and frozen Arctic nights, heart pounding unheeded in her glistening, sweat-drenched chest, racing across a thousand different landscapes as if she were flying; and his slender back in front of her, always, those scrawny shoulders and that delicate waist twisting, pumping, tensing, his golden ponytail whipping out around his neck like hungry, grasping, snares of pure seduction, taunting her, and her fingertips aching to wrap it around her and be drawn into its depths.

It was the best view in the world.

**-x.x.x-**


	4. 004 Conscience

**30 Things They Should Have Done But Didn't**

_Gundam Wing © SOTSU AGENCY - SUNRISE - ANB_  
_This is a work of derivative Fanfiction. No claims are made towards the ownership of intellectual rights pertaining to the metaseries._

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**22 May, 195 (#004 Conscience)**

It took a while for him to realise he'd made a mistake in letting her come with him. Beyond all expectations, Lucrezia Noin terrified Zechs and he wasn't sure why.

He was a cowardly wreck in front of her. He had no appetite. It was hard to joke. It was sometimes hard to breathe. He was awkward and stiff when she enters a room and the effects persist even after she is gone. It bewildered him because this was Noin he was thinking about, good ol' Noin, his best ever partner and oldest friend.

It wasn't anything she was doing; in fact, she'd barely spent any personal time with him since the attack on Lake Victoria Base. On duty, she displayed the same military professionalism she always has, and which he has come to expect of her... which was good because given the fuck-ups of the last two days, he did not dare to imagine what she would have done to him by now if not for military professionalism. He would not be at all surprised if she'd come to serve him his court-martial papers.

It was just the day's battle reports.

She gave him a pen and folded each report to its signatory page before handing them to him so he would not have to read what they said. He signed quietly, without comment. There were red rims under her eyes and her lips were paler and tighter than usual. He didn't dare to ask who else they'd lost, that was Treize's thing. He couldn't even bear to think of Otto right now.

Funny how it was easier to let that sort of sentimentality slide away when she is not around.

He'd told her he felt more secure with her watching his back, but that, he's realised, was a lie.

She made him feel exposed.

She checked his signatures. He should probably check what was on the reports, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Whatever was in those cold laser-printed pages, he knew deserved worse and ten times over.

"This area has been cleared of all remnant forces. We can officially secure the old castle at noon tomorrow if you are up to it," she reported kindly. "I've taken the liberty of securing this tent. You will have absolute privacy until the morning." So he would be able to take his mask off and sleep comfortably without fear of exposing his true identity.

"Thank you." His replied in a rigid rasp.

He wanted to ask her to stay and sit with him a while, her presence comforted him. But she was already lifting the tent flap to let herself out.

The words were hard to get out. He should have done it before, when it wasn't too late.

"Noin, perhaps it would be better if you take command from here on."

Did she smile or scowl? "Otto would never forgive that, Zechs-_Ou_-_heika_."

Bitch.

The weight in his chest shifted from one side to the other as she exited into the night. He would have liked her to stay and hold him so he could cry.

Then again, perhaps it was better that they didn't.

**-x.x.x.x-**

* * *

Zechs-Ou-heika: Your Majesty King Zechs; which doesn't have quite the same ring to it unfortunately.


End file.
